Herbal Tea
by Apatheia
Summary: [DemyxMarluxia] It started with a simple cup of tea, escalated with the kidnapping of a sitar, and hit the fan when plots of revenge came into play. It was a feud he wanted no part of, but found himself drawn into anyway.
1. Herbal Tea I

**Title: **Herbal Tea  
**Author:** Apatheia  
**Pairing: **Marluxia/Demyx  
**Rating:** PG-13/Teen  
**Summary:** Marluxia had a feeling he was going to have fun with this one.  
**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to Square Enix and Disney. Please don't sue; the only thing you would get is a few dollars in change and some Kingdom Hearts tee-shirts.

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**Herbal Tea**

Marluxia scrutinized the damage wrought on his garden with keen blue eyes, his expression darkening with each travesty he noticed. With gloved hands curled into fists, he clenched his jaw and took a jerky step forward. As soon as he had stepped foot into his garden, he had known something had gone horribly awry even without seeing the mass destruction done to his pride and joy.

However, no sixth sense could have possibly prepared him for this.

The new concrete pathway was streaked with dirt, clumps of the dark brown substance strewn about the surrounding area carelessly. Petals littered the surrounding grass by the dozens, each singed around the edges. Several plants had been torn at their roots, others were left in charred remains, and some were missing completely. It appeared as though Hell itself had thrown a party while he had been away on his mission.

A strangled sound escaped past clenched teeth as he took another jerky step, blue eyes taking in the horrifying sight once more. He could practically feel the plants' cries of pain reverberate within the blood that flowed through his veins, their outrage and desire for retribution almost tangible. Marluxia knew all of this – could feel it better than he could feel his own existence – and yet one question constantly plagued his mind.

Just what the hell had happened here?

Marluxia already had a vague idea of what had transpired in his absence as he stooped down beside an uprooted rose bush. Gloved fingers reached out to brush gently against soot covered petals, serving only to taint the remnants of their beauty. His gaze wandered from the bush and took note of a large scorch mark marred the otherwise perfect grass several feet away.

Pulling his hand away as though he had been burned, Marluxia abruptly straightened and stormed towards the door. There was only one person – or rather, one Nobody – who was foolish enough to tamper with his garden.

Axel would suffer dearly for his mistake if Marluxia had any say in it.

--

With a weary sigh Marluxia pushed the door to the kitchen open, gloved fingers combing through his rusty-pink hair in a sign of pent up frustration. The action only made his hair look messier, not that he really cared. He had searched the entire castle from top to bottom and had found not a trace of Axel anywhere. Much to his displeasure, inquiries had also produced no clues as to VIII's whereabouts. In the end, Marluxia had decided to call the search off for now. Odds were that Axel was merely hiding in another world in fear of his wrath. If that were the case, then Marluxia had no absolutely no problem waiting for his return.

Letting the door drift shut behind him, Marluxia could not help the slightly sadistic smirk that flitted across his features at the thought of the numerous ways he would pay Axel back. Number VIII had never had the pleasure of meeting some of Marluxia's more questionable plants, the most notable a mutated Venus flytrap. Perhaps when the red head returned he could show him just why he wasn't one to be trifled with. Maybe then he would get some respect from the bastard.

A small bubble drifted past his face, popping and effectively snapping Marluxia from his violent train of thought. His body tensed and he instantly scanned the kitchen, the energy required to summon his scythe pooling to his right hand.

"Hey Marluxia, would you like something to drink?" Demyx asked cheerfully from his perch atop the counter. A small cup of something warm – most likely tea - was held loosely in one gloveless hand, small puffs of steam carrying to the air. The other hand gripped the neck of his sitar gently, keeping the instrument balanced in his lap.

The blond man didn't bother to wait for an answer. Instead he set his tea aside and reached up into the open cabinet above his head, pulling out another cup.

Marluxia arched a brow slightly in question even as a small sneer curled his lips. He had always found IX inferior to him in just about every way and certainly had no desire to be anywhere near the other man. Had he known that Demyx was in the kitchen, he certainly would not have come here. Was it possible that Marluxia had been so deep in thought that he had failed to notice his presence? The idea didn't sit well with him - he prided himself on being constantly alert and having a good handle on any given situation.

He was half-tempted to leave right then, and the only thing stopping him was the fact that playing nice with Demyx might provide some benefits in the future. Anyone able to elude his senses deserved at least some credit, so perhaps the other man was not as useless as first impressions had led Marluxia to believe. Or perhaps Demyx possessed some information on Axel's whereabouts.

Either way, Marluxia decided to stay and it was with great reluctance that he walked over to the counter.

Demyx grinned, green eyes dancing with joy, and handed him a cup filled to the brim with a murky liquid before turning his attention to his sitar. Calloused fingers set to adjusting the strings, making them stretch taut across the instrument. Marluxia watched with a faintly curious expression, fingers tapping lightly against the side of his cup.

"Pardon me for interrupting, but what are you doing?" he questioned politely, blue eyes lingering on the tightened strings before lifting to meet Demyx's surprised gaze. When first meeting a foreign target, it was key one appeared polite and at least somewhat friendly. It caused the target to drop their guard and made the eventual betrayal all the sweeter.

Demyx glanced down at his instrument and gave the strings an experimental strum, wincing slightly as sour notes filled the air. "I'm trying to tune my sitar." His voice was soft, almost inaudible, as his attention became focused solely on the beloved instrument in his grasp. Brow furrowed in concentration and teeth nibbling on his bottom lip lightly, his fingers moved to slightly loosen the strings.

The sounds resembled a dying animal more than music, Marluxia noticed with an amused smirk. The smirk faded into a frown when he realized that the blond was paying him no attention whatsoever, making it painfully obvious that if he wanted answers he would be forced to wait. Biting back an annoyed sigh, he shifted the cup within his grasp before bringing it to his lips, taking a deep drink.

It took every ounce of his self control not to spit the mouthful of liquid right back out.

With a grimace, he forced himself to swallow and shot a dark look at Demyx. "Just what exactly is it you put in my cup, Demyx?" For a moment, Marluxia assumed that he would get no response from the blond – he was hardly paying attention to his surroundings, after all.

Demyx gave a cry of triumph when a haunting bittersweet melody filled the air. His eyes slid shut in pure bliss and a soft hum of approval rumbled deep in his chest as his fingers continued to coax the heart wrenching music from his sitar. Pity neither of them had a heart.

Marluxia sighed impatiently, his expression darkening. "IX!" The only answer he got was a lopsided mischievous grin. Seeing as how the other man was at least listening to him somewhat, he continued. "What is in the cup?" He forced himself to sound polite, his tone lazy. It was as if he had all the time in the world.

The haunting tune quickly changed into something bright and lively, now so fast paced that Marluxia could not have kept up with the beat even if he wanted. One green eye peered up at him, depths dancing with something akin to enjoyment.

"Herbal tea," Demyx answered in a light and casual tone. "It's supposed to be really good-"

Marluxia couldn't have thrown the cup faster if he tried.

In an instant the cup shattered against the wall near the door, its content staining the pristine white paint a dirty brown as shards of glass flew everywhere. The music suddenly stopped as the tea slid down the wall in messy streams only to pool at the floor. Marluxia gazed at the new mess with a smug grin before turning his eyes onto a startled Demyx.

Any patience Marluxia may have had was gone.

He brought his face close to Demyx's, the smug grin transforming with ease into an almost pleasant smile. "You gave me herbal tea…?" His voice was soft, deceptive; a nice blend of kindness and masculine charm that had fooled many.

Marluxia's hand ghosted across Demyx's cheek, gloved fingertips brushing against smooth skin and lightly stroking dirty blond hair. Smile widening, he closed the distance between them until their foreheads rested against each other gently. A hint of satisfaction entered his calculating gaze when he noticed Demyx lick his lips nervously.

"Yeah. Axel told me-" A gloved hand wrapped around his throat tightly, effectively cutting of his words.

"You've seen Axel today, Demyx?" Marluxia's tone never changed, still as soft and coaxing as before. Almost absently, he noted how Demyx's eyes darted over to his sitar, hand inching along the counter with the intent of snatching. With a small chuckle, Marluxia's free hand came crashing down on his. "Now, Demyx, answer the question," he said sweetly, although his intentions were anything but sweet.

He didn't really know why Demyx didn't just summon forth a dark rift and run, nor did he particularly care. All that mattered to him was the information the blond held – nothing more, nothing less. Green eyes filled with panic, Demyx opened his mouth to speak but managed to only produce a wheezing sound. Marluxia loosened his grip on the other man's throat reluctantly.

"He came in earlier with a whole jug of it. Said he got it from some place in another world and that I could have it," Demyx explained hurriedly. Despite the fact that he was at another's mercy – Marluxia could have easily snapped his neck by now, if he so desired – he managed a weak grin.

Marluxia's eyes narrowed slightly. "And did he happen to mention what world?"

His only response was the slightest shake of the head; an answer Marluxia was not too happy with. All pleasantness was gone from his face as his grip on Demyx's neck tightened considerably. Instantly, he could feel the younger man's body stiffen in surprise. He pulled his head away, a small sneer tugging at his lips as he watched Demyx try to breathe around the new obstacle.

Marluxia never noticed Demyx's free hand press against the counter top until it was too late or the dark rift that formed beneath his body until his weight became much too heavy to bear. Demyx was hanging halfway in the darkness, Marluxia's grip still tight around his neck, and Marluxia was starting to slip in after him.

He was by no means a weak man but even he could not manage to hold someone who was a few inches taller and a good ten pounds or so heavier than his weapon. Marluxia was left with two options: He could let Demyx go or fall in after him. While neither was an appealing option – he was probably enjoying himself more than he should - he released his death grip on Demyx's neck. Sighing softly, he pulled away from the rift and watched it close with a small frown.

The blond was proving to be more trouble than what Marluxia had first anticipated.

Not only had he failed to extract the desired information but he had allowed Demyx to escape as well. Both failures were something new to him, and he didn't particularly care for the unwanted setbacks hindering his plans. Clearly he needed to work on honing his skills if he had gotten this pathetic and useless.

With a small sound of disgust, Marluxia nearly turned to leave when a flash of color caught his gaze. Blue eyes narrowing slightly, he shuffled over to the discarded sitar lying on the counter forgotten.

Gloved fingers reached out and hesitantly stroked along the instruments neck, only to instantly pull back. Marluxia waited for some form of defense to lash out at him. When nothing happened – figures that Demyx was too dumb to affix a proper defense mechanism on his weapon – he smirked and grabbed a hold of the sitar.

The instrument was heavier than his scythe surprisingly and Marluxia nearly lost his balance thanks to the unexpected weight. It was a wonder how Demyx managed to carry the blasted thing, let alone fight with it. With a small sneer he propped the sitar against one of his shoulders and headed back towards his garden, making sure to stomp on the discarded tea cup along the way.

Perhaps he would get that information out of Demyx after all.

--

A faint look of irritation flitted across his features as Marluxia tucked several slightly damp strands of his hair behind his ear, dirty fingers instantly went back to digging a small trench around the base of a rose bush. It probably would have been easier for him to use some sort of gardening tool but Marluxia had always been fond of handling his garden with his own bare hands.

The task of digging didn't take as long as he anticipated and soon enough, Marluxia was filling the trench to the brim with fresh fertilizer. It was as his hands were busy smoothing the fertilizer out that a strange pulse echoed throughout his body. Marluxia stilled, focusing on deciphering the unfamiliar feeling.

It seemed that his plants had taken the initiative to warn him of Demyx's arrival.

With a pleased smirk, Marluxia stood and wiped his hands clean on his black pants just as Demyx broke through the surrounding fauna. Calculating blue eyes watched as the blond stopped dead in his tracks and doubled over, gasping for breath.

Marluxia found himself growing increasingly annoyed as the minutes passed. Already he could feel his patience beginning to wane. Folding his arms across his chest stiffly, his smirk faded into a disapproving frown and he gave an almost inaudible sigh. "Are you quite finished yet, Demyx?" Green eyes glanced up in answer to his question, narrowing into what Marluxia could only assume was meant to be an intimidating glare.

"You stole my sitar," Demyx accused as he straightened. His glare was unwavering even when his lips formed a child-like pout.

Marluxia was certain that the younger man meant for the action to be intimidating, although the pout ruined any chance of that. It was a widely known fact that Demyx was not one to be overly confrontational, thus any sad attempts at intimidation were mere bluffs on his part. He usually chose to solve problems with words, not violence.

Marluxia had already begun counting the minutes until Demyx began to try to talk the location of the missing sitar out of him.

"Did I, now?" Marluxia's voice took on a vaguely amused tone that bordered on teasing, even as his mind worked out possible reactions and ways to use those reactions to his advantage. Anger, or at least something resembling it, was what he was aiming to get. Anger made most people easier to manipulate, and it was with that belief set firmly in mind that he allowed a fake smile to creep across his face.

His action seemed to have served its purpose; Demyx's pout deepened as his 'intimidating' glare intensified. "You know you did, Marluxia. Now quit being mean and give her back."

Marluxia's expression turned completely innocent, quite the feat considering he was anything but that. "You're free to grab a shovel and dig 'her' up anytime you so desire," he said, arms falling back to his sides. Absently, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched for Demyx's reaction.

Demyx's glare was gone in an instant, his entire body going still. "…You buried her!" He sounded horrified at the mere suggestion of such a thing, only proving to Marluxia that the sitar was his weakness. It became quite apparent that lugging that damn instrument back to his rooms had been a smart move on his part.

"With great pleasure."

Every word he said, each move he made, was a calculated attempt to push Demyx to the point of breaking. It shouldn't be too hard; Number IX was considerably weaker than the others members both mentally and physically, after all, and claimed to love his sitar more than life itself. It only made sense that he would do anything for the stupid thing.

It came as no surprise to Marluxia when he saw all fight leave Demyx's body.

A smirk on his face and all deception gone, Marluxia walked gracefully over to Demyx with the intentions of taking that which he had worked so hard to retrieve. One bare hand still slightly dirty from his gardening came up and gently caressed Demyx's cheek. The action, which had been done only to see just how much the not-so-mighty had fallen, earned a dark glare.

While he may never admit to it, Marluxia was surprised. Perhaps he hadn't broken the younger man after all. The realization caused his smirk to grow and he lightly draped an arm over Demyx's shoulders, steering him towards the exit.

"Why don't you and I have a little chat, Demyx?"

Marluxia had a feeling he was going to have fun with this one.


	2. Herbal Tea II

**Title: **Herbal Tea II  
**Author:** Apatheia  
**Pairing:** Demyx/Marluxia  
**Rating:** PG-13/Teen  
**Summary:** If Marluxia wished to manipulate him, then he had another thing coming.  
**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to Square Enix and Disney. Please don't sue; the only thing you would get is a few dollars in change and some Kingdom Hearts tee-shirts.

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**Herbal Tea II**

"As punishment for your misdeeds, Number VIII, you shall be forced to undergo a prolonged healing period, and will not be permitted to receive curative treatment in the form of magic or potions. Moreover, you will be confined to your living quarters until you are deemed cured by one of your superiors. Is that understood?"

Xemnas' words rang sharply throughout the monochrome room in which they all had gathered for the impromptu meeting, disapproval apparent in his harsh tone and cool demeanor. The smallest of frowns, barely perceptible in its existence, graced his features and his gloved fingers tapped lightly against the arm of his chair, a single silvery-gray brow arched at Axel expectantly. His frown deepened noticeably when no answer immediately came forth.

If Demyx was to be completely honest with himself, he could not fault with the Superior for his discontentment. The older man had made his intolerance for disobedience well known to everyone shortly after he had established several regulations they were expected to follow. While Demyx was always careful to obey the set rules, others like Axel weren't as cautious; they were quick to toss out the rules as soon as they conflicted with their own wants, whereas he held firm to the rules in order to avoid unwanted trouble.

However, despite his agreement on the matter, Demyx could not help but shift in his seat with unease as the Superior's piercing gaze swept over him briefly.

With an almost audible swallow, he cast a side-long glance at the red-haired man to his right. It seemed as though Axel finally managed to sense all of the attention focused solely on him; he shrugged carelessly, his lips twisting into a small grimace. Long scratches trailed along the side of his face, twisting to accommodate the expression he wore. A ring of bruises surrounded his neck like a choker, the scratches that marred his face carving a path through it to hide past the neckline of his coat.

"Yeah, yeah," Axel grumbled after soothing the pain in his body. He directed a small scowl at the one who was the cause of his injuries.

Demyx followed his comrade's gaze and instantly winced at the smug grin on Marluxia's face. The tension between the two was almost tangible and he could only hope that the Superior would hurry this meeting along. Axel seemed more than prepared to light Marluxia on fire, regardless of the negative consequences that would no doubt result from such an act of violence. If anything, he would laugh even as the Superior rattled off a long list of chores as punishment.

Seemingly satisfied with Axel's less than enthusiastic response, Xemnas turned his attention to Marluxia and his lips pursed in a disapproval that surpassed all others. Marluxia was quick to wipe the grin off his face, donning a look of complete innocence in its place. A poorly muffled snicker came from the blonde female at his side, and several members exchanged knowing glances.

Clearly the innocent expression was fooling no one.

"You, Number XI, shall also be punished. Your blatant disregard for the rules I have set and your contribution to the creation of a disturbance among the ranks were both uncalled for and unappreciated. As a result of your actions, I am forced to put two members on probation. So as punishment, you shall be forced to remain in the castle and tend to Number VIII's injuries until he heals sufficiently. Is that clear?"

Demyx was a bit surprised to see the almost pleasant smile spread across Marluxia's face.

"If such is what you deem a befitting punishment then I am happy to comply with your wishes, sir." His words were nothing less than polite, and his tone even bordered on charming. It seemed that he was genuine in his wish to atone for the trouble he had caused. Xemnas didn't seem to be fooled by the act, though he did accept the answer with a small nod. Demyx wasn't fooled either. Experience had made him well aware of Marluxia's superior acting skills, and the familiar honeyed tone made him suspicious.

The older man was up to something, he was sure of it.

--

A soft hum reverberated deep in his chest as his calloused fingers glided across the strings of his sitar with an ease born from experience and passion. A fast-paced cheery melody streamed forth from the instrument in his grasp and sounded throughout the library. Notes bounced off walls and bookshelves, creating an echo-like quality that seemed to only add to the overall effect of the tune.

Demyx's body rocked side to side in time with the beat, his foot tapping lightly against the floor. His surroundings seemed to fade as his entire being was swept up into the magic of his music. With each passing note he grew closer to achieving that perfect melody that every musician dreamed of; he could practically feel it within his reach. Without warning, a leather bound text hit him square in the shoulder before falling to the floor with a loud thump.

The moment was gone; the magic faded away.

Fingers coming to a rest over still-vibrating strings, Demyx fought back the urge to let out a frustrated wail. Instead he settled for a disappointed sigh, green eyes glancing at the book that had brought a stop to the magic. After a moment of staring, and wondering if Vexen would miss one of his chemistry books, Demyx's gaze slid to the silent Nobody several feet away.

Marluxia was seated comfortably at a small wooden table, stacks of books piled around him. A quick count told him that the other man was one book short of what he had started off with – not that Demyx had counted beforehand, of course. Nevertheless, he had a sneaking suspicion that the thrown book was the missing one, and the suspicion brought a small pout-like scowl to his face.

Certainly his music didn't warrant physical abuse.

Marluxia made a small sound in the back of his throat, turning to the next page of the book in his hands. "Stop that insufferable noise you call music and get out," he ordered casually, not even bothering to glance up from what he was reading. His brow furrowed slightly in thought as he scribbled something down on the pad of paper at his side.

The less than kind words his music had elicited came as no surprise to Demyx, though they definitely weren't appreciated. He was well aware that he was making a nuisance of himself – was doing it on purpose, even. A part of him felt that the other man deserved to suffer, even a little bit, for the kidnapping of his sitar. That same part also felt that whatever plan Marluxia had cooked up today would have unpleasant circumstances, and it was up to him to stop things before they got too far.

The other, more sensible part of him was warning him that he was playing a game that he had no chance in winning. Fighting back the innate urge to simply leave and avoid what would prove to be an unpleasant conflict, Demyx forced himself to keep his butt firmly planted in the seat. He had just as much of a right to be in the library as Marluxia did and he planned on exerting that right.

Absently plucking at a string on his sitar, he stared petulantly at the other man's hunched over frame. In a moment of fleeting courage, he decided he would speak up. "Make me." In retrospect, the words certainly didn't come across as the most mature come back, but in the end it didn't really matter. The ferocity behind them – the pure _feeling_ that only Demyx could emulate – said more than enough.

He was **not** about to allow himself be pushed around.

The corners of his lips tugging up to form a thin smirk, Marluxia made note of his current page and carefully set the book to the side. Gloved fingers raked through messy hair, only serving to make it messier, and blue eyes narrowed with amusement as he glanced at Demyx. The smirk on his lips twisted, now resembling a faint sneer.

"I haven't the time to play with you, _little boy_," he drawled lazily, his words deliberate and his tone patronizing. "Go annoy someone else."

Tempered by anger that his mind easily exaggerated, Demyx gave a sharp tug to one of the strings on his sitar. Personal beliefs carried over from a Somebody named Emyd caused Demyx to try to abstain from using violence as a solution to his problems, but it seemed that Marluxia had every desire for him go against those beliefs.

Every word that passed the other man's lips, every gesture he made, had the uncanny ability to push Demyx to the breaking point. Perhaps in the end, all the barely veiled insults and jeers were a mere ploy to elicit such a reaction. What could be gained from this, Demyx was not sure, but it was the only sensible reasoning his mind supplied to explain Marluxia's actions.

If the other man wished to manipulate him, then he had another thing coming.

"I'm not a little boy," Demyx protested, his voice easily taking on a faint whining lilt. It took little effort for dark brows to come together in a frown, a small pout forming on his lips.

He knew perfectly well that it was anger that Marluxia expected of him – such would have been a reasonable response given the circumstances. However, if the other man really wanted such a thing, then he would have to work to achieve it. Demyx was determined to not let him have his way; he had no wish to be manipulated (again) into helping fuel the feud between Axel and Marluxia.

Marluxia's sneer faltered for a minute, eyes narrowing into a stare that left Demyx feeling a bit unsettled. "Oh?" The smoothness of his voice did little to cover the sudden, and dangerous, shift of moods.

It was immediately apparent that Demyx wasn't doing something right. Concerned about the obvious transparency of his act, he was quick to give a small nod. "Yes. Contrary to popular belief, I _am_ over twenty," he informed the other man hastily, his tone prim. He made sure to stress his obvious displeasure by folding his arms across his chest, lower lip jutting out in a sulky expression.

The actions seemed to put any suspicions Marluxia may have had to rest. He rose from his chair in a single, graceful motion, an unkind smile hovering on his lips. "Well, then why don't you try to read this adult book rather than those silly little picture books you favor so much?" The challenge in his words was unmistakable even though his tone bordered on friendly. One of his hands made a small gesture toward the almost forgotten text at his side, though his gaze on Demyx never wavered.

"Fine, I will!"

Demyx ignored Marluxia's poorly concealed sound of amusement at his words, instead laying his beloved sitar on the table with great care. He stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets in order to hide their small tremors – though he had risen to the challenge, he remembered all too well what had happened last time he had been physically close to the other man. Despite his nervousness, Demyx managed to walk past several tables and chairs without tripping.

The two were now separated by no more than a single, flimsy piece of wood that offered little comfort.

Green eyes flickered toward Marluxia cautiously before shifting to the book, and with an almost audible swallow, Demyx reached out slowly. He half expected his hand to be smashed down against the table and for gloved fingers to wrap tightly around his neck, slowly cutting off much needed air. When no such thing happened, his courage grew. Finger curled firmly around well-worn leather as he hurriedly grabbed hold of the book and pulled it to his chest.

"A bit skittish today, I see." The smirk that undoubtedly came with the mocking words was practically audible.

Demyx glanced sharply at the other man. "I'm not skittish," he said firmly, more for Marluxia's benefit than his own. Both men knew perfectly well that the words were a lie, but Marluxia accepted them with a superior air that did not go unnoticed.

Taking a noticeable step back to further the distance between them, green eyes glanced down at the book in his hands. The cool leather that encased the yellowing pages was without a title, Demyx noted almost absently as he carefully opened the book. The writing on the faded lines was cramped and small, making it difficult to read despite its neatness. What few words he was able to distinguish raised more questions than answers.

Just what did Marluxia have planned for a formula that stimulated the growth process?

"Is this something to help heal Axel?" Demyx queried after a moment of thought, curiosity getting the better of him as it so often did. He closed the book with an audible snap and glanced at Marluxia expectantly.

At the mention of the bane of his non-existence, Marluxia instantly sneered. "That," he began, obvious distaste underlying his tone, "is research for a new fertilizer I am making."

Though the other man's blatant dislike for their red headed comrade was of no surprise to him, his obvious disregard for an order directly from the Superior was. Everyone, regardless of their time of joining, at least offered the first of their organization that much respect. Or, that's what Demyx had always supposed. It seemed Marluxia was an exception from the majority of their strange group.

Somehow such a realization was not at all unexpected.

"But Xemnas said you had to fix up Axel!" Demyx decided to remind him. Despite the futility of such a thing, a part of him hoped that the older man would simply give common sense and comply with the Superior's demands. If only Marluxia would swallow his pride – or whatever it was that motivated the Nobody to continuously test the Superior's patience – then a lot of trouble would be saved on everyone's behalf.

"Axel can rot for all I care," Marluxia remarked flippantly, snatching back the book from Demyx's grasp without warning. It was clear he intended returning to the creation of a new fertilizer for his garden, in spite of having the important responsibility of nurturing Axel back into good condition.

"Your care or lack of it aside, Xemnas won't be pleased if you neglect your duties, particularly those he assigned you himself," Demyx informed him sternly. He yanked the book back from Marluxia's hands and set it to the side. It wasn't that he was especially worried about the consequences Marluxia would have to face if he didn't help Axel, but he knew that if left alone too long the other man would formulate a plan far more dangerous than one formed in haste.

"Well, aren't we being the responsible one all of a sudden." Marluxia gave him a suspicious look, blue eyes calculating. "Just what is it you are up to, Number IX?"

"Up to? I'm not up to anything. I just don't want Xemnas to call another meeting – the man scares me," Demyx confided, the half-lie falling flat from his lips. The smile he gave to Marluxia was one that was meant to reassure the other man that he was perfectly harmless – which, in a sense, he was – but the result was an expression more of nervousness than anything else.

Something, be it the smirk that tugged at the corners of Marluxia's lips or the sudden pleased crinkling around his eyes, told Demyx that his efforts to throw off suspicion were not really helping the matter any.

"Very well, if you must pester me, then I suppose you can prove yourself useful by going through all of these books. Surely even one such as you can be capable of such a simple act."

Demyx didn't miss the air of superiority in Marluxia's tone, nor was he unaware that his intelligence had (yet again) been brought into question. He wasn't given much time to dwell on anything resembling an intelligent retort; Marluxia had already abandoned his table and was heading towards the only door in the room before he even got a chance to open his mouth.

"Wait, where are you going?"

Marluxia paused at the door, his hand resting loosely over the doorknob, and cast Demyx a glance over his shoulder that held the faintest trace of condescension. "I'm going to go make myself some lunch. After all, I've been slaving over books all morning and was unfortunate enough to miss breakfast. I'm rather hungry."

"I'm hungry, too!"

Demyx stepped towards Marluxia, fully intending to follow him to the kitchen. His words were neither an excuse to follow the other man nor were they a lie. While he hadn't been forced to endure the misfortune of being absent from the morning's meal, he had been tardy and that tardiness left him with nothing more than the scanty remains of some biscuits and a single slice of bacon.

Marluxia didn't even give him time to make it further than a few feet. "Ah, ah, ah," he mocked, pulling open the door and stepping out into the hallway, "We wouldn't want Xemnas to call another meeting regarding Axel's condition not improving, now would we?"

The fact that Marluxia had twisted the miniscule fib from earlier only to use it against him was not lost on Demyx, though the knowledge of such a tactic being employed against him brought him little satisfaction. If anything, it only brought to his attention his own ineptitude when it came to deception and manipulation. Demyx frowned at the realization, his lips once more forming that sulky pout that many had deemed his trademark.

Seemingly satisfied with his handiwork, Marluxia left before Demyx could say anything, leaving the blond to stare at the slightly ajar door in contemplation.

"I don't believe it…He wanted me to help him all along!"

--

Time held little importance in the World That Never Was, but even if it did, Demyx would not have noticed the passage of hours. It wasn't that he had been so engrossed in his studying that he had been incapable of keeping track of the world around him, though he had spent a great deal of time trying to unearth a workable formula to help Axel. Outside of music, keeping track of time wasn't one of Demyx's main concerns, so rarely did he bother with such a triviality.

However, despite his lack of concern, even Demyx was aware that it didn't take so long to gather up some food, even if the person doing the gathering stopped to eat it. While travel was an excuse commonly used by several members to escape meetings, the kitchen was well stocked after a recent excursion to another world that resulted in the accumulation of a variety of quick and simple meals, so he doubted the other man was gallivanting in a grocery store.

Marluxia was still absent, and his lack of presence in the library was both a blessing and a curse.

Without having to be on constant guard around someone so unpredictable, Demyx had actually managed to accomplish a great deal while waiting for the other man's arrival. There had been little point in following Marluxia to Kingdom Hearts only knew where, and while he didn't have any obligation to offer up his assistance, there was still the matter of putting a stop to whatever it was the older man had planned.

Surprisingly, Vexen's journal had proved interesting despite its illegibility and the detailed notes within the leather binding were actually quite useful once he got passed the near incomprehensible terminology.

It took several pages for him to reach the conclusion that the growth stimulant had a far greater use than an ingredient in some custom fertilizer. While not all that knowledgeable when it came to science, Demyx had a hunch that when properly mixed the formula would speed up the growth of skin cells if applied to a place such as a cut on Axel's skin.

Of course, his area of expertise didn't exactly extend to medicine, either. Having to compensate for the obvious risks an experiment such as this harbored, he had opted to mix in a small amount of Lexaeus' healing salve to counteract any negative effects of the growth formula. The whole procedure sounded good, at least in his head, but Demyx was not entirely certain of its feasibility, or if it was even safe to perform outside of his imagination. Still, it certainly couldn't hurt to try, and it was the best idea he had come up with so far.

Once he had addressed and answered the problem concerning Axel's recovery, Demyx had turned his attention to devising a new and improved plan of action. His first plan, such as it was, had been crude and borderline outright stupid; he evidently had been too obvious at what he was doing and while he had eventually obtained what he wanted, Marluxia had as well. Though Demyx had the foresight to see that Marluxia had been up to something, he had lacked the ability to discover just what that something was.

After careful consideration, Demyx had reached the conclusion that conning him into doing the work for him was only a minor step in Marluxia's ultimate scheme, whatever that was. Further thought and common sense led him to believe that the other man's true goal concerned Axel. Despite having injured him a great deal, Marluxia was hardly the type of individual to be satisfied with such minor flesh wounds, especially when said wounds were inflicted on someone foolish enough to tamper with his garden. He would settle for nothing less than the perfect retribution.

Or so Demyx thought, and since he hardly knew every facet of Marluxia's personality to discern his true motivations – the only one who could boast such an accomplishment was Marluxia himself and chances were that he would not clue Demyx in anytime soon – he considered his suspicions nothing more than faulty conjecture.

Glancing around nervously – Marluxia could return any second, and it simply would not do to have him discover the beginnings of his new and improved plan – Demyx grabbed Vexen's journal and his own sloppy notes and darted out the door. It only made sense that Vexen would know just how to mix up this new concoction, and if Demyx handled him respectfully and appealed to his nature as a scientist, the older man could very well assist him. Granted, he would probably have to keep his true reasoning behind the experimental mixture himself. He seriously doubted if any of the original six would approve of his plan, especially if they stuck to the rules of the Organization like Vexen seemed to.

Making a sharp turn, his boots pounding loudly on the stairs, Demyx made his way to the lowest floor of the Castle That Never Was.

--

He was gone.

Carrying an unopened can of soda in one hand and an opened can of soda in the other, Marluxia arrogantly arched a brow in question as his eyes scanned the library. His searching gaze roamed over the stacks of books before settling on the empty chair where Demyx was supposed to be sitting. The man was clearly absent from his seat, leaving naught more than a mess behind to show that he had even been there in the first place.

Unconcerned by this sudden turn of events, he drank deeply from the opened can of soda in his hand and walked over to the abandoned table, sitting the other can on a discarded book.

It was unlike the younger man to abandon something after he had agreed to help – or in this case, had been manipulated into agreeing to help, though such a technicality was hardly something to fret about. Nonetheless, Demyx's determination to finish what he started was a trait that was as annoying as it was useful. Only three things could have distracted Number IX from his task: growing hunger pangs, the inaccurate assumption that Marluxia would not return, or a mission from Xemnas.

The first possibility was the most probable, considering the other man had complained of hunger shortly before Marluxia's departure. The second was reasonable enough to be taken into consideration, but based on the tentative companionship he had noticed between VIII and IX, he doubted if it was the explanation he sought. The latter possibility had very nearly fallen under possible until a glimpse of something blue out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Marluxia's lips quirked up in a slight grin that was the epitome of smugness. For a man who claimed to value his sitar more than anything else in the worlds, Demyx had the rather contradicting tendency to desert it in favor of his own personal needs. Such selfishness would one day cost him dearly. Taking another leisurely drink of his soda, Marluxia strolled deeper into the library in search of a book to pass the time.

Demyx would be back; he was sure of it.

--

"Thanks for the help, Vexen," Demyx said appreciatively, his attention focused mainly on the tiny glass bottle in his hand. Contained within the seemingly innocent bottle was a strange substance melon green in color and lotion-like in appearance, something which would no doubt reflect its texture. The newly concocted lotion – for really, no other word could effectively describe just what the new mixture was like – was the center of Demyx's plan to foil whatever scheme Marluxia had in the works.

As Demyx had followed the overly simplified instructions rewritten by Vexen to create a way to heal Axel, he had reflected further on just what Marluxia was trying to do. He had a sneaking suspicion that the other man's plan was much like his own in the fact that it focused a great deal on the method employed to heal Axel. If this was true, Marluxia would undoubtedly try to prey on Demyx's supposed lack of knowledge regarding the outcomes of whatever healing method he had managed to glean from his studies, and would sabotage the concoction created in order to inflict more harm on the unsuspecting red head.

Hiding the properly produced lotion required to help Axel was the best solution to this possible plot, which was precisely why Demyx would keep the tiny bottle tucked away until the last minute. Regardless of whether or not Marluxia did tamper with the other lotion, he would swap the two bottles when no one was watching just to be safe. It was the only way he could be absolutely positive that Axel was getting the proper treatment.

Checking to assure himself that the stopper was securely in place, Demyx carefully pocketed the bottle.

"Though I doubt your ability to be convincing, I fully expect you to deny having ever used my assistance," Vexen instructed carefully, having already returned to his current subject of research.

Demyx very nearly confessed to his deception when faced with the implication in the other man's words. Was it possible that Vexen had somehow formulated at least a vague impression of what it was he had planned? If he was to answer that question based solely on the other man's words, Demyx would have had to say yes, yet the dismissive scratching of the scientist's pen on a fresh page in his journal said otherwise. If Vexen truly knew what he was up to, surely he would have done more than offer a mere disclaimer denying his involvement.

Demyx's mouth opened only to shut with an audible snap. Regardless of the possibility of having been caught, he wasn't about to go spouting off every little thought of dishonesty that had filled his hand since this entire ordeal with Marluxia began. Vexen didn't seem to harbor any outright disapproval – if anything, his assistance despite his possible knowledge regarding Demyx's plans was just as good as approval.

Of course, that didn't mean that he was going to question the extent of Vexen's information anytime soon. There was always the off-chance that bringing his hidden intentions to the other man's attention purposely could cause him to change his mind, and if tempted enough, Demyx was sure Vexen had no qualms about going to the Superior and requesting that Demyx be used as his next test subject.

He rather enjoyed not being strapped down and experimented on.

With a nervous smile directed at Vexen's back, Demyx focused his will on creating a corridor of darkness. "Um, yes, well… Your nonexistent assistance is very much appreciated."

Turning abruptly and practically throwing himself into the chasm that split the air, Demyx didn't allow himself to truly relax until Vexen's lab disappeared from his sight. With the peril of being pricked with an endless procession of needles whilst strapped to a metal table gone, he concentrated on forming an exit. An image of the library flitted across his mind, giving his will a point of exit to focus on. The twisting darkness before him tore apart like a loose seam, and Demyx hurriedly stepped into the artificial light of the room.

The portal had transported him right beside the table at which he had been sitting earlier, and it was only after a secondary glance that he realized that the library was not exactly how he had left it. A single can of soda was the only difference between the before and after images in his memory, and Demyx was absolutely certain that the can was not his contribution to the small mess on the table.

Plucking the can from its perch on a book, Demyx studied the unfamiliar brand of caffeinated beverage with slight curiosity. Calloused fingers ran across the generic label that marked the soda as the cherry-lime flavored variety only to pull back as his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Who in the world drinks-?"

"So where did you wander off to?"

The voice harbored a mocking air that was carefully hidden behind a pseudo-kind voice; Demyx could effortlessly recognize the deceptive tone as Marluxia's. Its familiarity did little to make the unexpected situation at all more comforting, and despite what he would later claim, Demyx made a strange sound that was an uncanny blend between a squeak and a hiccup.

Surprise made him spin around on his heels with a startled expression that came easily to him. Self-preservation long since ingrained into him and a certain prior experience concerning his unwanted companion, however, made the top of the soda can in his hands to shatter open under a sudden pressure. Cherry-lime flavored liquid burst out in a poorly constructed arch, drops of the yellow liquid flying everywhere.

Using reflexes no doubt honed from sparring with Larxene, Marluxia ducked out of the path of the soda and narrowly dodged being soaked in the most unpleasant of ways. The sticky yellow substance flew over his head and coated the shelf of books behind him, seeping between pages and no doubt causing ink to run in messy streams. Demyx didn't bother to entertain any illusions regarding the punishment for such a mess; he would undoubtedly be assigned to bathroom duty for an entire week to atone for this unfortunate mishap.

Bringing the newly opened can to his lips to portray at least a hint of normality – although one could hardly call Demyx drinking soda normal – he tried to regain some semblance of composure.

"I was using the restroom," Demyx answered finally, proud to note that his voice did not shake in the slightest. Marluxia smiled at his words, a mocking quirk of the lips that most assuredly meant nothing pleasant.

"Such a long time to spend in the bathroom," he remarked casually, stepping forward until the edge of the wooden table dug almost painfully into Demyx's back. One leather clad chest pressed against another in a way that was not at all comfortable on Demyx's end of things; the younger man could barely hold back a flinch as chapped lips brushed against his ear. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Demyx quickly reached the conclusion that the other man had managed to surpass dangerously close and enter into unwanted territory. The last time he had allowed his guard down when the two of them had been in such physical proximity, it had resulted in an unforgiving hand wound tightly around his throat. Lips tugging down sharply at the memory, Demyx placed a firm hand on the other man's chest and shoved.

It took a moment before Marluxia finally staggered back under the force of his touch, but the instant he was free, Demyx straightened to his full height and gave the other man his sternest look. Part of him still felt a twinge of nervousness around the other man, yet he reeled it in with every ounce of his strength. He would no longer allow himself to display consternation when faced with one such as Marluxia; to do so would without a doubt serve only to further encourage the other man's mocking antics.

"What I do in the bathroom is none of your concern," Demyx informed the other man, though his words seemed to do little to deter the other man from trying to earn his ire.

Marluxia did not bother to hold back the laugh at Demyx's sudden show of confidence, the sudden sound sharp and derisive. Demyx could not help the fleeting notion that no matter what he did or said, Marluxia would always fail to take him seriously. It seemed that the other man had cast him into a particular niche and anything that went against the poorly constructed conception of reality regarding Demyx was instantly brushed aside.

"If you're quite finished," Demyx paused until Marluxia ceased his mocking laughter, "I found a way to heal Axel within a matter of days."

Any sense of annoyance, no matter how vague, quickly faded away as he allowed the excitement of his discovery to wash over him. The lopsided, almost silly grin that shaped his lips was as genuine as any Nobody's grin could be despite his earlier misgivings. It wasn't everyday that he got to show his fellow members his often underestimated intelligence.

The grin Marluxia gave him in return was not at all like his own; Marluxia's lips were twisted up in a smug fashion, very much like the fabled cat that swallowed the canary.

"Did you, now? Do tell." His tone reminded Demyx of the pleased murmurs Larxene would make use of once she was given her way, and the sudden resemblance, while not at all surprising, was just a tad unsettling. Feigning an additional sip of soda to cover his slight unease, Demyx had to force his body not to tense. While he had no trouble being the focus of someone's attention, being at the heart of Marluxia's focus was something to worry about.

"Well, I found a formula in one of the books, and from what I understand, this mix should accelerate the healing process." That was true enough, of course, though the overly simplified explanation really didn't do the relatively complicated process justice. However, the explanation seemed to suffice for Marluxia.

"Very well," Marluxia said, his voice still that self-satisfied, soft murmur too Larxene-like for Demyx's comfort. The older man flicked a wrist to his right, instantly forming a dark rift in the empty space at his side. "We shall go to Vexen's laboratory in order to concoct this little mixture of yours."

Demyx could not help but frown at the sight of the corridor. Very much like the Superior's pet peeves, everyone in the Organization was well aware that Vexen did not at all appreciate having a portal opened within the confines of his rooms or lab. The original members managed to get away with not announcing themselves, but no one outside of the small group was exempt from Vexen's expectation.

Deciding that such a thing was not a good idea, he opened his mouth to voice a protest. Worn leather encircled his bare wrist before he was abruptly tugged into the dark void. Demyx stumbled over his own feet, sloshing the remaining soda in his can as he fought to keep his balance.

Vexen was not going to be at all pleased when the two of them popped up unexpectedly.

--

Xaldin was tucked away in a corner, reading a book and trying to appear as though he wasn't paying attention to either of them even though he probably was. Upon their arrival, Demyx had discovered that the Superior had split the task of keeping a watchful eye on Axel amongst three of members, and since Xigbar and Luxord were both absent for mission purposes, it was Xaldin who had been saddled with the responsibility.

In the end, he supposed, such an arrangement worked out for the best. Marluxia had thankfully left shortly after depositing the unsuccessfully concocted bottle of lotion – Demyx had no idea how the other man had managed to turn the substance pale lavender, but he hadn't been surprised by the unwanted alteration - and if he could only keep the other two distracted, Demyx could easily switch the two lotions.

"So how are you feeling?" he queried from his perch atop the bedside table, his feet tapping against the wooden legs. The action only served only to jostle the various things that littered the top and create some minor noise, but neither Xaldin nor Axel remarked on it.

"I'll be out of here in no time," Axel assured him, the grin on his face as cocky as ever. In his lap was a tattered pillow that appeared to have somehow survived the entire drawer of knives in the kitchen, though with the way the red head kept digging into it to steal feathers Demyx was sure it wouldn't last much longer. Not only was the outer casing in poor condition, but every handful of the feathers that had once shaped it was thrown into the air only to be set aflame one by one.

Their ashes danced in the air only to be wiped away by the wind every time Xaldin turned to the next page in his book. The entire affair was very much like a coordinated dance, one, it seemed, the two of them had devised long before he had entered the room. Though based on what little he actually knew about Xaldin, Demyx had a feeling that the only reason the third of the Organization joined in the spectacle was to prevent a bigger mess than necessary.

Regardless of the reasoning behind each man's participation – Axel, he was pretty sure, was motivated solely by boredom – the show of feathers and flame provided the perfect distraction for Demyx to carry out the final step of his plan.

After glancing at both Xaldin and Axel to reassure himself that they were, in fact, not focusing their attention on him but rather their little game invented to pass the time, he snaked his hand out behind him and snatched up the tiny glass bottle resting on the table. Hurriedly shoving it into his empty pocket, he reached into the other one and pulled out his own formula.

"Oh, hey, is that the stuff?"

Demyx glanced at Axel, his lips curving up into a grin. "Yeah, this is it."

The glass bottle caught the dim light from the tall lamp in the corner, giving its green contents within an unnatural shine that had no doubt been the cause of Axel's sudden attention. Demyx tossed the bottle in the air, only to hop off the bedside table and catch it as gravity brought it back down.

"Well, I'm going to go," he announced, throwing the salve to Axel.

The other man managed to snag it from mid-air with one hand, but judging from his small snort, he wasn't all that impressed with the alleged medication for his wounds. It was understandable, really, considering that the concoction looked more like one of Larxene's face creams than something used to heal people. Demyx wasn't really too concerned with Axel's lack of faith as he walked to the door; something told him that the lotion would work, and it wasn't just because he had obtained Vexen's (non-existent) assistance.

"Talk to you later, Axel!" He gave the red head one final wave before he left the room, considerably more jubilant now that his plan had gone off without a hitch. Whatever plan Marluxia had in store for Axel was officially in ruins courtesy of his involvement and the satisfaction that came with such a triumph was inspiring.

Demyx wanted nothing more now than to retrieve his sitar – it had been unwise to leave her alone, and he could only hope she hadn't been taken hostage by Marluxia once more. Once she was taken care of, he could retreat to his rooms and the two of them could create a new piece together that reflected the entire ordeal with the eleventh member of the Organization.

He already had an idea of the first few notes firmly in mind.

--

Sharp notes fired off in a rapid procession that bordered on some sort of frenzy, creating a melody that was both powerful and lively in quality. Small streams of water swirled from his instrument and drew from the natural hydration in the air in response to the music, the thin ribbons weaving around his body.

Lively notes turned intense as the tempo increased to a speed almost beyond compare, causing the streams to break of into tiny rivulets. His fingers danced over the strings with an ease that stemmed from experience and passion, and with each pass of a note he could feel the vague whisper of lyrics dance across his mind.

"What precisely did you do?"

The voice was dangerously soft, barely perceptible over the sound of his music. Demyx brought his latest tune to an abrupt halt, glancing up to study the very person responsible for inspiring the melody in the first place. Marluxia stood before him, looking none too pleased about something or other. It took little effort for Demyx to don a look that was the epitome of obliviousness.

It had taken numerous scores of classical music before a mirror before he had managed the feat of drawing upon the expression at will.

"What do you mean?"

A dark sneer tugged at the other man's lips as he stepped forward. "You know perfectly well what I speak of, IX. Do not bother to lie to me; you're inadequate at such deception."

Demyx plucked at a string on his sitar, brushing aside the insult directed at him with a casual shrug. This confrontation would decide the future of his relationship with Marluxia; if he showed any hesitation or weakness now, any chance of earning respect from the other man was gone.

"Why, I did nothing more than follow your example, Marluxia." His simple explanation brought Marluxia to a pause, and the older man seemed to consider his words carefully. The sneer was gone, easily slipping into that condescending quirk of his lips that seemed to define the man. Marluxia regarded him carefully for a moment, his gaze something akin to calculating.

"And why, pray tell, would you do such a thing?"

Demyx very nearly grinned, but managed to hold back the expression at the last second. Marluxia couldn't very well insult him after he had used such an excuse for his actions; to do so would only bring Marluxia's own actions into question, and the older man was hardly the sort to question himself. Yet at the same time, he wouldn't make any comment of approval or compliment him because that would force him to admit that he had been wrong in his first impression.

It seemed that Marluxia, or at least this part of him, wasn't as hard to understand as Demyx had originally thought.

"Never come between a man and his sitar," Demyx advised in all seriousness, giving the other man his sternest look in order to impress upon him the importance of his words. Marluxia stared at him for a moment longer before grinning, the expression remarkably amused despite the situation.

Without another word he walked out, leaving Demyx with nothing more than the echo of his footsteps. As soon as he was gone, Demyx plucked at his sitar again, a sigh of relief escaping past his lips. Any semblance of confidence was gone as he sank back against the warm plush of the worn chair situated beside a window.

"Man, I thought I was a goner for sure."


End file.
